Your Hand in Mine
by MG12CSI16
Summary: A night alone gives Dean and Castiel a chance to rediscover each other. An outtake from Mockingbird.


An outtake from Mockingbird with no specific place in the timeline, but you don't necessarily have to have read it to read this. Pure PWP, because Dean and Cas deserve some time together in the midst of all the baby stuff. I've said this in other stories so I may as well say it here too, I'm horrible at writing smut and this is about as detailed as I've dared to go before so apologies if things are awkward.

I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

**Your Hand in Mine**

You come home from work on a Friday evening and the house is strangely quiet despite Dean's car being parked in the drive. Normally you come home to a symphony of giggling, crying, or a soft rock tune on repeat, but today all you can hear are the sound of your own footsteps as you walk down the hall and peer into each room as you go.

They're all empty.

Your chest tightens and your mouth is strangely dry. What if something happened? You feel your fingers curl into fists at the thought and the protective ache in your stomach only intensifies when you see the door to the nursery is wide open but no one is inside. Normally, if you're late enough, Allison is settled in her crib napping until supper but the crib is empty and the bedding is cold.

You run out the door and straight to your bedroom, practically skidding to a halt when you see the mass in the center of the bed, snoring lightly beneath the comforter. Almost instantly your body relaxes and you tiptoe to the bed, contemplating whether or not to join Dean or wake him up and give him a piece of your mind for scaring the shit out of you.

In the end, it's a combination of both.

You plop down roughly beside him and press your lips to the back of his neck, a light moan coming from his lips. You work your way to the front and trail kisses over his throat, feeling his adam's apple beneath bob before you reach his lips and capture them roughly with your own, sucking at the bottom one with surprising force until an even louder moan escapes and Dean jerks forward, gripping the back of your neck as he pulls himself up.

He blinks a few times, his jade eyes heavy with sleep and his lips slightly pink, but he smiles when he catches sight of you but it disappears when he sees your frown and he scrubs at his face with the heels of his hands.

"What's wrong?" he asks you and you settle back on your knees and cross your arms over your chest.

"You scared me," you tell him sharply. "I came home and couldn't find either of you; I didn't get a note or a phone call. I thought something happened to you."

Instantly Dean's face melts into one of guilt and apologies begin flooding the space between you.

"I'm sorry," he tells you, "Sam called at the last second and said he and Jess could watch her for the night if we wanted. He said it had nothing to do with needing experience for the future but I call bull crap on that one. Jessica's been hounding him for kids since the engagement."

You hide a snicker and take in the goofy, innocent expression on his face as he rambles and the anger leaves almost instantly. You don't know if you could ever really be angry with Dean and as a sign that you accept his apology you pull him into another kiss that he hungrily reciprocates.

The chill travels up your spine and you shudder against Dean, eliciting a throaty chuckle from him as his lips detach from your and move to nip at your ear. This time you groan and the hardness pressing against you makes you squirm in Dean's embrace. Your jeans are suddenly a bit tighter and you wriggle your hips against Dean, watching the impish grin on his face turn into a devilish smile as he pushes you back and straddles your lap.

You gasp as his hands, warm and rough, sneak under your shirt, fingers pinching an erect nipple as you arch into his touch. He smiles at the reaction and carefully pulls the shirt over your head, throwing it across the room before he sits back and does the same with his own. His chiseled muscles ripple beneath his tanned skin, begging to be touched and kissed.

Slowly you lean up, bringing your lips to his again as your hands roam his body. It feels like a lifetime has passed since the last time the two of you were intimate. Days and nights revolve around Allison and work but you don't really mind. Still, it's nice to be able to rediscover Dean without the baby monitor sounding in the middle of it all.

His body is warm against yours, the stubble on his chin scratching against your cheeks and neck as he kisses your throat and nips and sucks the flesh. He pushes you back again, this time working at your belt, fingers agonizingly slow because you know he's teasing you. He removes the belt and starts pulling the jeans over your hips and you lift them slightly in assistance. Now you're left in your boxers but Dean is still mostly dressed and you decide this simply won't do.

You give him a pointed look, one composed of both agitation and impatience, and he smirks as he quickly removes them and climbs on top of you. His fingers tease at the waistband of your boxer, slipping in and grazing your throbbing member lightly before they disappear and you moan loudly as the ache in your stomach intensifies tenfold.

He pulls the boxers off and frees your erection, taking your cock in his hands and pumping slowly, watching you screw your eyes shut as you buck your hips to the rhythm of his pumping. You chalk it up to not being laid in a long time, but you know after the first few moments that you're close.

Achingly close.

"Dean," you whimper as you spasm beneath his touch, and in that instant he knows it's time.

He flips you over, your face in the sheets and you hear him dig through the drawer beside the bed, the crinkle of a condom wrapper making you sigh in relief. a moment passes as Dean opens the bottle of lube but before you realize it his fingers are at your entrance, slick and waiting.

Slowly he pushes a single digit in and you can't hold back the pleasured yell that pours from you. He pumps a few times before he adds another, then another, stretching you wide as your hands curl into fists around the sheets. Dean leans forward then and his lips graze your ear, his fingers still inside of you and making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

"You ready?" he breathes, sounding nearly as breathless as you. You barely manage a frantic nod before Dean leans back, removing his fingers.

A whine tears at the back of your throat at the loss of his fingers but it's only seconds later that you feel his member against your waiting, slippery entrance and without warning he plows into you. You scream, head arching back as he fills you completely and at first, all you see is white.

He starts off slow, moving in and out as you adjust to the sensation, your breathing slowing ever so slightly. He's gripping your hips with surprising strength, no doubt leaving bruises that will show up in the shower later, and when you press yourself against him in an attempt to feel him deeper he knows it's time to speed things up.

This time when he pulls back he slams in hard, his hips smacking against your ass. In the midst of his pumping you feel him remove a hand from your hip, snaking around to take your length in his hands as he pumps quickly and you're moaning and writhing beneath him.

"Dean…Dean." You repeat his name like a mantra, your toes curling as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach before washing over you like a wave and you come hard, all over your stomach and Dean's hand.

It doesn't take Dean long to follow suit, pumping a few more times before he releases inside of you, collapsing against your shoulders as he fought to catch his breath. He presses a rough kiss against your lips before he pulls out, falling down on the bed sticky and sweaty.

You inch towards him bury your face in the crook of his neck. He smells of sweat and sex and _god, _you've missed this. You've missed _Dean_. Even though you see him every night it wasn't the same. There was no passion, no connection, and even though you know both of you are trying your best, sometimes you feel an overwhelming gap between yourself and him.

And apparently, these thoughts are etching themselves onto your face because you catch Dean looking at you, slightly amused.

"What is it?" he asks.

You smile and shake your head, your hand slowly tracing patterns against his chest, heart beating solidly against your palm.

"I love you," is all you say and Dean leans in, pecking at the corner of your mouth.

"Love you too."


End file.
